..dealing with illusions

A character..

When I met her a few years ago, the acquaintance which had developed into a brief friendship, I took her to be a very jovial and fun loving person. Though I was well aware that an obese person hides behind her rich attires not only layers of stubborn fat but also a horde of problems that are shed in installments at the pillow every few nights. Her first impression that conveyed to me was a very agreeable one as such people are wont to convey to distract others from their physical excess; so that she assumed the impression of a very cheerful person who loves all the good things in life. Though there is no denying the fact that she did love all the good things in life, she never enjoyed them for their own sake; instead it was an overwhelming need to be looked upon as a dignified, sensible and a refined being where nature would have no part to play.

Ever since she attained puberty and her timid heart started taking a liking for guys against her best intentions, she had realized that the joy of reciprocal love was denied her and it gave her acute pain to see all her female friends happily engaged; Men whom she liked never found her plump body attractive though she had the fairest face. She resembled more like a snowman or a doll of dough whom one had fixed the same kind of round beads for eyes, nose and mouth. And all the beads seemed so closely stuck together towards the upper part of the sphere that a considerable amount of space was left below making her chin pudgy. A thin layer of brown hair covered her head; parted from the middle and fastened with a colourful clip near her fleshy neck. She never tied her hair in any other way so that her face appeared the same always. Her body was likewise plump with a huge belly and hefty thighs and when she walked she seemed to bounce at every step. As a result the dislike meted out to her in turn cultivated a deep hatred in her for men and matrimony about which she was quite vocal with her married friends. Even then a casual talk regarding sex would make her blush and she would drop the subject readily.

However to make up for what she had felt a great injustice to her womanhood (though she never displayed any signs of guilt), she cultivated excellent manners and attired in the best clothes that showed the more agreeable parts of her flesh. But all her outward appearances were not enough to pacify her subconscious and her depression soon turned to binge eating which kept her pleasantly occupied and also plump. She binged on every kind of food from the roadside chats to the delicacies of a three star hotel as well as the popular eating joints that sprang up in the famous parts of the town. One advantage that she acquired from this habit was that she could display all the required table manners expected at a restaurant or a public place, much to the consternation of her friends who had not learnt to hold their forks and knives properly. At such times she assumed a kind of snobbishness which her eyes could never conceal and she beacme more lively and cheerful.

Also she read a lot of popular literature, celebrity magazines and self help books and more often than not she spoke nothing original but what she learnt from such books. But the conviction and confidence in her voice concealed this theft and made her sound quite original. And at the same time very few of her friends were actually well read and also thrived on such literature for knowledge. So the conversation mostly revolved around food, lifestyle and ambitions for which her literature equipped her sufficiently.

To appear more interesting she also constantly attended picnics and trips with her friends showing a great amount of enthusiasm for which in fact she cared very little. But all this helped her create a very favourable impression amongst her friends to the extent that some people took a great liking for her.

But behind this display of exuberance were several lonely nights spent cursing the pillow, the dread of a dim solitary future and the eagerness to hold a strong hand; which always ended with a why.. but also with an unceasing hope which aroused her every morning with renewed vigour to take on her life as she seemed fit.

Saniya Varkhandkar is the author of psychological fiction, The Recluse: A tale of an adult with ADHD.

She has studied Literature at the University of Mumbai, and worked as an Instructional Designer and a freelance writer in various e-learning organizations. At present she is a home-schooling mother who enjoys designing educational and fun activities for her son.

Vedic philosophy, occult science, and stoicism are some of the subjects that interest and inspire her.

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